Up in Flames
by The Mighty Red
Summary: When given a job at SHIELD, Melanie Fraser becomes infatuated with the mysterious agent known as the Black Widow. Melanie gives all effort to pursue the lovely agent, but her feelings may not be received as well as she hoped. Hopefully Melanie can keep her anger in check, lest the entire affair goes up in flames. **pre-Age of Ultron**
1. 1 - Smoking

_I know this looks similar to the story I had up before, but there are some minor changes as well as some major ones. Please just keep patient with me. Happy reading!_

* * *

 **1\. Smoking**

"Melanie Fraser," the secretary called in a bored tone.

The tall woman seated near the desk shot her hand up with an excited smile. "That's me!" She called. Melanie bounced up, her blonde ringlets bouncing with her, and handed the secretary—Justin Reedy, as the name plate on the desk said—her file. He looked taken aback by her jovial attitude. Justin Reedy was clearly not a morning person.

He looked through her file briefly and then handed it back. "Director Fury's office is at the end of the hall on your left, you can't miss it." The file was swiped out of his hands and Melanie took off like a rocket down the hall. Justin rolled his eyes and opened his mountain biking magazine to a page on a new lighter bike frame.

Melanie was scurrying down the hall, her long curly hair in tow, when she suddenly smashed into someone. She fell painfully onto her tailbone and the papers in her file went all over the floor. "I'm so very sorry!" She said in a squeak of a voice, as she shoved her glasses up on her nose and began to gather her papers to put them in the right order. "I was just in such a hurry to—" She stopped as her eyes met a pair of long legs. Melanie felt the breath go out of her as she looked up to see the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. Shiny red hair, intense eyes, flawless skin, and delightful curves, all in a black pencil skirt.

Mother of god, Melanie was in lesbian heaven.

"I... I'm..." She stuttered, looking for words, "I'm sorry, ma'am... Or, agent? Are you an agent? You're probably an agent, I'm sorry ma'am—agent! I'm sorry, I just..."

"Slow down," the woman said in a voice as smooth as honey. She smiled warmly. Melanie hoped this woman couldn't read minds. "You're clearly applying for a position here, so you wouldn't know to begin with." The beautiful woman stooped down and helped Melanie pick up her papers. "I'm just an agent in training. Nothing special yet. My name is Natalie, good to meet you, miss...?"

"Uh, Melanie! Melanie Fraser!" She said quickly, hopefully not too quickly. "I was on my way to an, um... well, I mean, to an interview, with—"

"With Director Fury?"

"Yes! That's the guy!" Oh god, she was making an absolute fool of herself. She gathered up the rest of her file quickly. "Well, he's probably expecting me, so I'm just going to uh, get going, so I can... um... It was very nice to meet you, so..." Without another word, Melanie spun around and hurried down the hall, her heels clicking rapidly as she ran to Director Fury's office.

Natalie—the alias of Natasha Romanov (and fully certificated agent), meanwhile, looked after her with a perplexed expression on her face. "Tasha!" She looked up to see Clint jogging towards her. He stopped when he saw her face and her stance. "What are you doing on the ground like that?"

"Helping someone pick things up. She just ran off," Natasha said, getting out of her crouched position. "Odd woman..." She shook her head and smiled at her fellow assassin. "You wanted to spar this morning, right?"

Melanie knocked feverishly on the director's door, and without waiting for a response hurried in, slamming the door behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief and let her head fall back against the door as she steadied herself.

"Miss Fraser, I take it?"

Melanie's head snapped back upright and she looked into the eyes- or rather, eye, of a large, bald black man sitting behind the desk. His other eye was covered by an eye patch and that didn't help the situation; the man was already terrifying. Dressed in what appeared to be a leather trench coat with the SHEILD eagle insignia on the shoulder, this had to be none other than Director Fury.

He looked at his watch and then back to her. "You have impeccable timing, Miss Fraser; 8:45 on the dot. Punctuality is a good trait to have here at SHEILD. Please have a seat," he motioned the chair in front of the desk.

"Thank you sir," she said and seated herself, patting her hair to be sure it wasn't out of place. "I brought my transcripts from high school and college as well as my resume and a list of—" Melanie was cut short as a mid-height man with spiky dark hair strode through the door, rambling as he walked.

"...have to get something done about the algorithm calculators in the lab, Cyclops." The man seems to radiate aggressive self-confidence and in an instant, Melanie recognized him.

"Tony!" She gasped. "Tony Stark!"

He turned to look at her. "Hello, sweetheart," he said, backtracking to stand next to her and lean down to have his face within inches of hers. "Have we met before? I'm sure I'd remember a dazzling beauty such as yourself." Tony flashed her a gleaming smile. "What was it? Last year's St. Jude's charity gala?"

"N-No, Tony, don't you remember? We were in the same particle physics and applied chemistry classes at MIT. You, you tutored me in both classes," she shifted in her seat and smiled, "and if you remember from the Snapple machine incident our sophomore year, I'm also not in to guys?"

Recognition flashed across his face. "Mels! Mels Fraser!" He said with a smile. "That's right! Goddammit, how did I not see it? Haven't seen you in years! You look great, by the way, Mels." He turned to Fury. "If you're interviewing her, hire her. She can work with me."

Fury raised a single eyebrow. "Making my decisions for me now, are you Stark?" He asked in a cold voice. Melanie felt her blood curdle at that voice.

"Oh for crying out loud, Fury, the woman is a genius, I practically taught her myself," Tony turned back to Melanie. "You're hired, and you're in my division now."

"Now just you hold on a minute," Fury rose to his feet, and Melanie's face drained of all color. Director Fury was massive. As if he wasn't imposing enough. "She needs to go through all the screening processes and the background checks first before she can even think about going within ten feet of your lab, let alone working there, Stark," he pointed an accusing finger at the smaller man. "And you damn well know it too."

Tony rolled his eyes and made a mocking mouth with his hand. "Rules, rules, regulations, rules... C'mon, Fury. Can't you just do that later? Mels is amazing at what she does, we worked on our advanced robotic engineering final project together." Tony turned to look at Melanie. "I still have that old thing, by the way."

"You still have Dum-E?" She giggled. "That thing barely managed to function in the demonstration to Professor Kaiser, let alone during the how ever many tests we ran on it."

"That may be, but considering that everyone else's robots were kinda half assed and there was a giant curve in his class anyway, we still passed top of the class," Tony retorted.

"You done walking down memory lane?!" Fury thundered. Tony and Melanie both went quiet at the voice of the director. "I make the rules here, Stark! And until she's gone through the proper protocol, she isn't allowed in your SHIELD lab!"

There was a lapse of quiet and then Melanie spoke up, "So does that mean I have the job?"

Fury sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, something he seemed to be quite practiced in. "As of now, yes. You have the job. Mr. Stark here seems to be very adamant about you working for him. If you were really in the same courses in school, then that must mean you're just as bright as he is, if not more so."

"I'm standing right here!" Tony protested.

Director Fury continued, "However, your file still needs review. And mark my words, if your reports come back with a single scratch, you're out of here with a memory wipe faster than you can say 'SHEILD.'" He muttered.

* * *

Melanie sat at the kitchen table in her apartment that evening, sketching. The lines curved over the paper in a nearly perfect drawing of Natalie, the woman Melanie had run into in the hallway at SHEILD. When the drawing was complete, Melanie tore it out of her sketchbook and looked at it at arm's length. She had always been good at drawing, but she was surprised at the details that she had incorporated. There was the faint glimpse of laugh lines around Natalie's eyes, along with the subtle way that her smile curved upwards, like that of the Mona Lisa. That sort of smile was illegal in several countries, Melanie was sure of it.

Satisfied with her work, she put down the paper and got up to find some dinner. Melanie opened the cabinet, pulled out a can of soup and a pot, and set them on the counter. Then she turned to the stove. After a few clicks, it was obvious the stove wasn't going to light on its own. "Piece of shit stove," she muttered.

She knew there wasn't a lighter in her apartment. She knew there wasn't a single matchbook. Melanie looked around, thinking there might be prying eyes in the apartment. For good measure, she drew the curtains over the window above the sink and triple locked the door. Then she went back to the stove and stood there for several seconds.

She extended her index finger, and a small blue flame appeared.

" _How many times do I have to tell you?!" Mother screeched, slapping Melanie across the face. The fires that had been sputtering harmlessly on Melanie's fingertips extinguished instantly. "Fire is EVIL! Fire will only hurt!" Mother pulled Melanie's hair back so that she would look at her. "The fire that consumes your soul is a mark of the devil! Fire is evil, you stupid girl! Never use it! NEVER!"_

Melanie waved her hand through the air, putting out the flame. She held her hand close to her chest and looked around the tiny apartment, as if she expected her mother to burst through the door. But for nearly three years, her mother had been six feet underground in a cemetery in upstate New York.

That didn't stop the waves of emotion that cascaded over her. She clutched at her own hair, to keep it away from the ghostly claws of her mother's hands that seemed to reach her, even now. Melanie's breath hitched and she dropped to her knees, clutching her chest and trying to get her breath back. But the air only came in short, ragged bursts. Frantic, Melanie looked for something to calm herself. Something. Anything. She crawled across the floor and reached up to grab the sketch of Natalie the agent-in-training.

Melanie then lay on her kitchen floor, holding the sketch of the mysterious woman to her chest, and tried to recapture her breath. It wasn't until she heard the sound of her phone ringing and felt the stiffness in her back that she realized that she had fallen asleep on the floor. As quickly as she could without injuring herself, she got up and reached for her phone on the table.

"H-Hello?" She answered, her voice still sounding groggy.

"Mels! Hey!"

"Who's this?" She stifled a yawn as she sat down at the table.

"Tony, of course! What are you doing right now?" He asked in an excited voice that didn't belong in someone over the age of seven.

Melanie looked at the clock on her phone. "Tony, it's one in the morning."

"That doesn't answer my question," he retorted.

She sighed. "I was sleeping on my kitchen floor."

"I'm not going to ask why, presumably because it probably involved massive amounts of booze and I will be very offended because you didn't ask your old college buddy to come have drinks with you," he feigned a few sniffles before continuing. "So instead, I'm going to invite you to my tower where we can drink coffee to sober you up and then drink more liquor and build machines."

Melanie rolled her eyes and massaged her temple. "Tony, we were never really buddies in college. We shared a few classes, you tutored me, and we worked on a final project together. Hardly what I would call a friendship."

"But what about the Snapple machine incident?" He asked, a faint clang ringing in the background of the call. "Dum-E goddammit! Don't make me dismantle you!"

Melanie snorted. "Okay, yeah, I might call us friends after that."

"Alright, see? We're getting somewhere now."

"Actually, I have two questions." She said, holding up her fingers in succession, even though Tony couldn't see her. "How did you get my number, and didn't Fury say that I wasn't allowed to work with you in your lab?"

"That, my dear Mels, is where you are wrong. Fury said you weren't allowed to work in my lab at SHEILD. This is my lab at the Tower," he said. "I can just make some excuse like I was having you over for drinks. Which, if you remember the original plan, is not totally a lie."

She rubbed her eyes. "Okay, fair point, but that doesn't answer my first question."

"Getting your phone number was as easy as getting Jarvis to go through some SHEILD files," he retorted, sounding quite proud of himself. "And before you ask even more questions, Jarvis is my AI."

Melanie sat with her face in her hand for a minute, dozing ever so slightly. "So what you're saying is, is that if I come over there with a bottle of whiskey and a wrench, I can tinker with your high tech machines for a few hours?"

"Were you not a lesbian, I would even ask you on a date," he promised.

She snorted. "Alright, Tony. Deal. I'll be over in an hour. I need to put on more comfortable clothing and buy some whiskey."

From the other end of the phone, she heard the man whoop. "Awesome! Tell the guards the big man up top is holding a phone call for you from the man downstairs." Before she even got a chance to question the meaning of that phrase, the line went dead.

* * *

As promised, an hour later, Melanie drove up the front of Stark Tower. (Or was it Avengers Tower now? She didn't really know.) A large man with a pistol on his hip walked out of the tower lobby and up to her little Chevy Aveo. "Ma'am, you can't loiter out here," He said in a bored, but gruff tone.

"I was told to tell you that the big man up top is holding a phone call for me from the man downstairs?" She repeated Tony's odd phrase and hoped that the billionaire wasn't just playing her for a fool. The guard sighed. "Those where Tony's words, not mine," she attempted to clarify, so as not to sound like a total idiot. "I'm sorry if-"

"It's alright, ma'am, this is not the oddest 'secret password' I've heard from him."

Within a few minutes she was parked in the basement garage. From the front seat of her car she grabbed her little Craftsman tool chest and a bottle of whiskey; at the direction of the guard from the front of the tower, she headed to the elevator in the main lobby entrance. Melanie had never seen such a grand place. It was immaculately clean and glowing. Even the plush carpet seemed to shine. The guard got in the elevator with her, scanned his access key, and pushed the unlabeled button that lit up. Then they were soaring up the tower, reaching the destination in little under fifteen seconds.

The doors of the elevator opened, and she walked into what looked to be Tony's own penthouse apartment. It took all of Melanie's self-control not to gasp at the grandeur of the place. There were wide black couches that were sunk into the next level of the floor that looked more than just a little bit comfortable. A large art sculpture that let a wall of water flow over a slab of stone was bubbling on the far side of the room, and the large wet bar was stocked with more types of liquor than she could think of or even begin to count. Floor to ceiling glass lined the far wall, creating a beautiful scenic view of New York City that wrapped around half the apartment. It was truly magnificent.

"Wait here until Mr. Stark is ready to come up from his workshop," The guard said in his bored tone. Melanie didn't have a chance to thank him, as the doors to the elevator slid shut and went back to the first floor. She turned back to the penthouse.

"Does all this really belong to one person?" She thought aloud. She had never known what it was like to live in excess like this. Sure, her family had taken trips to amusement parks and gone to the beach every now and again, and she thought she remembered going to Disney World once, but this kind of luxury was something she had never even dreamed of existing outside the worlds of the comic books she had read as a child.

She put down her tool box and the bottle on the wet bar's granite counter and walked to one of the windows that overlooked the city. Melanie put her hands against the glass as she stared out of the window. In all truth, she had never felt more stunned by the view New York City then she did now. She truly felt powerful.

It was only when she smelled it that Melanie realized that her fingers were smoking. With a gasp, she shook off her hands and ran to the sink behind the wet bar. The faucet let loose a stream of frigid water. Melanie let her hands soak under the water until she couldn't feel the tips of her fingers anymore. She hated this, this curse. Her mother had told her that she was evil for having this power, and she was right. All fire could do was destroy. She felt like a monster. In a sudden wave of panic, Melanie whirled back around to the window. There were singe marks on the glass. Someone would see those. They would figure it out and they would lock her away to perform experiments on her. Just like Mother always said. Melanie grabbed a wad of paper towels and got them wet under the water. She dashed back to the window and began to furiously scrub the window.

"I would've hired you as my cleaning lady if you had asked, Mels."

Melanie whipped around and saw Tony, holding an empty glass, standing a few feet away with a smirk on his face as usual. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt, a blue-white light pulsing slightly underneath. A grease towel hung from his pocket, covered in an abundance of stains.

"I... Uh... I'm really sorry I just... It was..." She fumbled for words, trying to sound intelligent and not guilty.

Tony's brows knit together. "Everything okay?" He tried to lean to look past where Melanie was standing. "Is something wrong with the win-?"

"Nodon'tlookit'snothingIpromise!" She blurted, covering the window as best she could to obscure the singe marks. "Just some fingerprints! I'm a little particular about clean windows, nothing to worry about!" She gave what she hoped was a convincing smile.

Tony simply shrugged. "Alright, whatever. I'll grab the bottle of whiskey after I pour myself a glass. Grab your tools and head down those stairs over there!" He smiled and jogged over to the wet bar, pulling out his own bottles and making himself a drink.

Melanie stepped away from the window cautiously and grabbed her tool box. "This flight of stairs here?" She asked, pointing to a flight that went around the sculpture with the waterfall.

"That's the one!" Tony replied, still pulling glasses and bottles. "I'll meet you at the glass door!" Melanie nodded and headed down the stairs.

Tony glanced up to make sure she had left the room. Then he walked out from around the bar and towards the window. He brushed his fingers over the little black marks that were faded slightly after she had rubbed them. When he pulled his hand away, little bits of the black stuff stuck to his fingers. Curiously, he brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed. "Smells almost like... ash?" He said incredulously. "Jarvis...?"

" _Yes sir?"_

"Analyze the black stuff on the inside of the window here. When you have a report," he thought briefly on how to be conspicuous about the situation, "print it to the printer in the shop that prints things the quietest."

" _Of course, sir."_

Tony looked at the marks again. If he didn't know any better, he would almost say... He looked at his hand again, the back to the window. Then he pressed his palm to the widow, lining up his hand with the marks. Though most of it hand been scrubbed away and Mels' hands were not quite the size that Tony's were, there was no doubt about it.

It was a hand print.

* * *

 _So yeah, the better chapter one. Please remember to review, your thoughts are always welcome. Your thoughts, as well as any questions, general comments, concerns, or admissions of guilt. Thank you for reading, see you soon._


	2. 2 - Smoldering

**2\. Smoldering**

"And as you can see here by the size of the star, it is classified as a red supergiant. Can anyone here name this star? Miss Fraser?" Professor Lee pointed to her.

"Uh, Betelgeuse, sir?" She guessed wildly.

Professor Lee, a wiry elderly man with thick glasses and a bushy white mustache, nodded with a smile. "Very good. Now if we look closer at the star, we can see..."

As part of her new SHIELD training, Melanie had to take some general classes at the SHIELD academy. But Melanie would much rather be tinkering in Tony's lab with his ridiculously high tech gear. Over the course of the past few weeks of being officially employed at SHIELD, Melanie and Tony had grown to be close friends. While they had known each other in college, this sort of friendship was the thing they both seemed to be looking for.

As Professor Lee kept talking about the temperatures of red stars, Melanie felt her phone buzz in her pocket. As stealthily as she could, she reached into her pocket and took out her phone. The message was from Tony. She unlocked the screen and read the text. It was an answer to her prayers.

" _Lab? :D"_

Melanie looked at her watch. She still had about ten minutes left in class.

" _In class."_

" _Booooooooooo."_

" _You're a child. There's like 10 mins left in Lee's class."_

" _Come on Fraser! The lab is calling to us!"_

" _10 mins!"_

" _Fiiiiiine."_

She put her phone down just in time to see a woman glaring at her from across the room. It was the woman from a few weeks back! Natalie, the agent in training. Though, she didn't look like she was attending the class. She looked like a fully-fledged agent who was sitting in. Melanie shifted her eyes back to her notebook and wrote the rest of Lee's lecture in the book. He concluded by talking about the vastness of the universe and how there are still discoveries waiting to be made; how everyone would find their place in the universe and there was a greater purpose. A shrill bell rang, and everyone started to pack up. Melanie stood and stuffed her blue notebook into her backpack. She glanced at where Natalie had been sitting, but the woman had vanished.

God, she was hot.

Melanie smiled to herself and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Maybe she'd as her to get drinks together or something. As Melanie turned to leave, she ran into someone's chest. "Oh, goodness, I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching—"

"I know you weren't." A smooth voice replied.

Melanie looked right into the eyes of Natalie the-agent-in-training. Melanie swallowed and was at a loss for words. Natalie's eyes were an intense blue-grey, staring daggers into Melanie. "Do you know who Professor Lee is?" She asked. It must've been rhetorical, because Natalie continued, "He is the most honored member of SHIELD. The fact that you are being taught basic astronomy by him should be more than an honor for you."

"I, I'm sorry, please just back up a few inches, you're kind of frightening..." Melanie stuttered.

Natalie's eyes darkened and she stepped even closer. "If I frighten you now, then you have no idea how frightening I can really be. Pay attention in class."

"Oh my god, please don't hurt me, I was just telling Tony that I—"

"Tony?" Natalie's face dropped the terrifying look. "Tony who?"

"Stark...?"

"How are you communicating with him?"

"My... phone?" At Natalie's glare, Melanie put up her hands in surrender. "Sorry, I meant that we were friends in college! We got re-acquainted the other week and have been spending some time together. I didn't mean to overstep any boundaries, please don't fire me?" She had said this all very fast.

Natalie sighed and backed off. Melanie exhaled quickly. "So you're the one he's been talking about. You're Mels."

"Yes! That's me!" She said with a smile.

"And you were the one I ran into on the day of your interview. You fell and your papers flew everywhere." Natalie said, looking Melanie up and down for a few seconds, as if examining her. "I'm sorry to have lied to you," she said, extending her hand. "The name Natalie is an alias. My name is Natasha. But you'll probably know me as the Black Widow."

Melanie's mouth dropped open. "You're the Black Widow?" She squealed slightly. "Wow! What an honor! It's so nice to meet you! I'm Melanie Fraser!" She shook the other woman's hand violently.

Natasha smiled lightly. "Yes, I know."

Melanie put two and two together and blushed deeply. "Oh, yeah, right. Um, I'm sorry. I just got excited and I..." She cleared her throat and started walking out of the classroom. "I'm sorry I was texting. He wouldn't have left me alone if I didn't answer."

Natasha shook her head as she followed the blonde. "Believe me, I am more than a little acquainted with Tony and his child-like manners."

Melanie snickered. "You got that right. I was at the gym two days ago and left my phone in my locker and when I came back, I had thirteen messages from him alone." She smiled. It was so easy to talk to Natasha. When she wasn't being terrifying, Natasha was actually a very nice person to be around. "Do you, uh..." Melanie felt her tongue tie. "I mean, only if you want, because of course I'm sure you're busy, and I don't want to be a bother—"

"What is it Mels?"

"M-Mels?"

"Is it okay if I call you that?" Natasha asked, looking at her with an unreadable expression. "I know that's what Tony calls you, so..."

"Yes, no that's fine!"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Yes, no?" She asked with a smile.

Melanie thought about her phrase. "No, I meant that it's okay! I didn't mean... Fuck." She put her head in her hand.

Natasha took her hand and smiled. "It's okay. Just because I'm to Black Widow doesn't mean that you have to be nervous around me." _No, it's because you're so goddamn attractive!_ Melanie thought. "Unless I was interrogating you." Natasha went on. "Then you should be very nervous." Melanie laughed slightly. "But we're just talking as friends. What did you want to ask?"

She floundered for words for a seconds. _We're friends?! Oh god... I hope she can't hear my heart beating..._ "Do... Do you want to um...? Do you want to get drinks or something?" That was much harder to ask than she thought.

Natasha looked at her watch. "Tonight?" She had a doubtful look on her face.

"Or, whenever you're free! I know you must be very busy!" Melanie said quickly, opening the door to go outside.

The agent smiled and stopped walking. "How about tomorrow night? I'm free then."

"Sure! Eight o'clock?"

"Absolutely."

"Great! It's a date!" Melanie felt the color drain from her face as she said it. "I mean, not like a date, date! Like two friends having a good time date!"

Natasha laughed. "I know what you mean, it's okay." You don't have to explain everything. Don't worry so much!" She looked at her watch again. "I have to go. Fury will have my hide if I'm late to this meeting. It was lovely talking to you, Mels. See you tomorrow?" She smiled and waved, walking back down the hall. Her red hair swayed behind her with every step.

Melanie raised her hand in goodbye. "Yeah... Tomorrow..." She smiled like an idiot. Her phone buzzed again.

" _Meeeeeelsssss... I'm booooored..."_

Tony again. She rolled her eyes and walked out to her car, sending a message that she would be there in a few minutes. The snow swirled around her and she shivered. But not because she was cold. She was never truly cold.

* * *

"And just where were you, young lady?" Tony said, hands on his hips. His expression of amusement betrayed his body language.

Melanie snorted as she walked in. "I was talking to someone." She brushed the snow off her hat and took off her coat, throwing the items on the coatrack.

" _Welcome, Miss Fraser. Thank you for utilizing the coatrack."_ Jarvis said politely. The bitterness was evident in the AI's voice. Melanie noted that not two feet from the coatrack was Tony's light jacket hanging over the back of a chair.

"Oh someone!" Tony said, waving his arms around and going back to his project. He seemed to be ignoring Jarvis's jape. "I see that I'm not good enough for you now. That's alright. I'll just go be sad over here... With nothing but my robots to keep me company!" He added dramatically, draping himself over the desk in a false faint.

Melanie shook her head and went over to the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice. "So the person I ran into turned out to be a friend of yours." She rolled her eyes as Tony sighed loudly. "Said her name was Natasha, the Black Widow?"

"Holy shit, you ran into Natasha Romanov and you still have all your limbs?" Tony laughed, still draped over the desk. "Fucking incredible."

"Yeah..." She said, taking a drink of juice. She hesitated before adding: "We're going out for drinks tomorrow."

Tony sat up at that. "Oh. My. God." He said, a huge smile on his face. "Ha! You actually have a crush on her, don't you?" At Melanie's blush, Tony laughed even harder. "Wow, Mels, you set your standards pretty high, don't you?" He ducked as she threw a wrench in his direction.

"Shut it, iron ass. I can't help it. She's really pretty! I happen to have a thing for pretty girls," she said with a huff.

"What are you going to scoop up all the pretty girls into your pretty girl sack and carry all of them off to your pretty girl tower? Like a dragon with a hoard of pretty girls?" Tony snarked.

She shot him a withering look. "Honestly? Can you honestly not be more supportive than that?"

"To be honest, no I can't." Tony became quite serious. "I'm going to drop this now so you know. She's dating someone."

Melanie felt a weight drop onto her. The breath left her lungs and she sat down. "Fuck, man. Go figure." She shoved the tears aside that threatened her vision. "God, can't I have anything nice?" Her chest felt hot and she exhaled heavily, letting the heat leave, but it only built back up again. The heat angered her, and she growled, feeling the heat migrate into her hands. Suddenly, she didn't care what was around her, and she slammed the ground with her hands. A ring of bright red fire leapt out of her hands and skittered across the floor around her, singing the floor.

"Holy fuck!" Tony jumped back from the flames and looked at Melanie in surprise.

Melanie gasped and looked up at Tony, horror-struck. They locked eyes for a moment before she started floundering for words. Not being able to say anything, she just looked back down and looked at the singed floor. The world became blurry and she felt tears roll down her face, sizzle on her hot skin, and turn to steam.

"Mels, how long have you been a mutant?"

Tony's voice jerked her back to the world. "A what?" She asked.

"A mutant. Your genes are mutated and you can..." he gestured at the floor, "you can make fire."

"You're not mad?" She asked, her voice quiet and afraid.

"No, no, never. I'm going to come closer? Is that okay?" She nodded and he stepped over the scorch marks and sat down next to her. The sat in silence for a little bit. "Tell me about this." Tony said. "When did it start, how do you keep it in check, what happens with your powers?"

Melanie sat quietly for a minute. "I've always been able to," she said. "Even since I was little. My mother said that when I was a few months old, I burnt the new drapes in the living room of our old house. When I was three I accidentally burnt that house down."

Tony stood quickly and walked across the room. "Keep going, I want to take notes on this!"

"Okay... Um, when I was five—" he returned with an iPad and a touch pen and began writing into a program, "—I burned a hole in my new church dress because I didn't want to wear it." She laughed a bit. "That's when Mother started hitting. Any time I even looked like I was getting mad or I looked like I was getting a fever, whap! A smack across the face or a hit to the back of my head. She yelled a lot too..." Melanie could feel her heart rate going hay-wire. "She... was a good mother... She kept me... in line..." Her breathing started to hitch and become short gasps.

"Mels, look at me, c'mon look here," Tony said, taking her hands. "She can't hurt you here. She can't come near you. Keep breathing. Don't stop breathing." Melanie took as many breaths as she could. You don't have to tell me anymore, Mels. It's okay. You're safe."

It took a few minutes, but Melanie eventually got her breathing back. "I've never been able to do much more than make small flames. What happened just there..." She shook her head. "I've never done anything like that before. I just got really angry and..." She broke off again, unsure of how to proceed.

"So you've got a temper," Tony said, a smile working its way across his lips. "I think I know someone who can help you with that."

* * *

"The trick," Bruce Banner said as he took a deep breath, "is to not think about anything."

"Nothing at all?" Melanie asked doubtfully.

The young doctor opened his eyes and gave her a look over his glasses. His dark hair was swept back, a few streaks of gray running through it. He had a kind face and dark eyes. They both sat cross legged on woven mats, the lights down so they could just see each other.

"Meditation is an ancient art, Melanie. It's difficult, but rewarding." He closed his eyes again.

"But what if—"

Bruce cut her off and said, "One of the candles has gone out. Would you mind relighting it?"

She blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah... Sure." She stood and went over to the desk, where a tall white candle sat dormant. Melanie picked the lighter up off the desk and was about to light it before Bruce chuckled and said:

"Not with the lighter."

She looked at him incredulously. "But what if I get out of control?"

He opened his eyes and stood, looking at her with deep understanding. "Trust me, you'll be alright." Bruce extended a hand to her. "Do you want to hold my hand, just in case?"

She looked terrified at the very thought. "No! I'll burn you!"

"I don't think you will. Just trust me?" He smiled; it was a reassuring smile.

Melanie looked at the candle again. She took Bruce's hand and took a deep breath. She reached for the candle, her finger tips becoming hot. In mere seconds, the candle was lit and flickering softly, as if applauding. Melanie smiled broadly. "I... I did it!" She said happily, turning to Bruce.

He returned the smile and patted her on the shoulder. "See? Was that all that bad?"

"I can't believe I did it..." She looked at his hand skeptically. "And I didn't burn you?"

"Not once," he said, holding it up for her to inspect even further. And he was right. His hand was the same as it was before: smooth with neatly trimmed nails. There was even a small freckle on the back of his hand an inch or two below his pointer finger. "Fire isn't just a destructive power, Melanie. Look at that candle." She turned. "Fire is light and life. It lights up the dark and helps you find your way. While yes, it can be uncontrollable and scary, fire is the basic need of humans. Without fire, we might not be where we are today."

Melanie drank in the sight of the tiny flame, feeling it pulse within her. "It's almost like... like a heartbeat," she said softly.

"All of our hearts have fire in them," Bruce said sagely. "Some just more than others."

* * *

Melanie sat on her bed that night thinking about what Bruce said. _Fire is life._ She thought as she looked at her hands. Focusing quietly, she made her hands catch. Warm fire crackled to life in her hands. She made her breathing calm and put her hands together. The fire that enshrouded her hands became a ball in her hands, pulsing and drinking in the oxygen around her hands. "It is alive!" She said, the glow warming her face. Slowly, she squeezed the fire in her hand and brought her hands outward, cutting the fire off and dispersing it. Nothing had burned, nothing was on fire or damaged.

Melanie was getting the hang of this.

* * *

 _Again_ _, I know things look familiar, but it's the small stuff that was changed that will make all the difference in the end._

 _Also: I am able to see the traffic to this story and it is getting quite a bit of it. Yet, I see no reviews. Truly, this makes me sad. The favoriting and the following is nice, but at the end of the day, reviews are what help push this story forward. So please take a moment or two to leave a little message in the review box._

 _Thanks very much! I'll see you guys in a few days._


	3. 3 - Flickering

**3\. Flickering**

"Sir, I don't like this. She's not dangerous, she's not a menace. She's a human being with a heart and hopes and dreams and wants and needs."

"That doesn't mean she isn't going to be dangerous in the future," Fury said with a growl. "We don't know her intentions. Therefore, your orders are to keep her in line until we can determine said intentions." Fury's good eye glared at Natasha, almost as if it was by his will alone that was keeping her at attention like a wooden plank.

She frowned and shook her head. "That's the thing though, sir, I don't think she has any bad intentions, I think she's just..." Her eyes looked over at the screen replaying the video of Melanie slamming the floor. Fire flew everywhere. The floor was scorched, but her body language... there was so much fear in it. She wasn't used to this. "I think if we just send word to Charles that she is around, maybe he could send a few people over to play as SHIELD agents to keep an eye on her."

"And then what?" Fury demanded. "Do nothing but 'keep an eye on her?' She needs her memory wiped and she needs to be sent out of here if she's up to no good! This isn't some 'try again, you'll do better' ballet class, Romanov. This is SHIELD. In due time, she will not even know this part of her life existed. What does it matter to you?"

Natasha kept her mouth shut. There was no arguing this with Fury it seemed.

"Are you emotionally comprised by this?"

"No," she spat. "You know I'm committed."

"Then get your head out of the clouds and follow your orders," Fury returned her venom. "Keep an eye on Miss Fraser. If anything were to happen, report it to me. Do anything necessary to keep her in your trust."

She hesitated only slightly before nodding stiffly and saying, "Yes, Director Fury."

* * *

The snow had swirled to a stop earlier that day, but it had left a few inches behind. Standing ankle deep in it, Melanie checked her watch. 7:58, the small numbers read. _Chill out,_ she thought to herself. _She's not late, she's just not here yet. No worries._ But that didn't help. The constant question of 'what if she doesn't show up?' continued to pester her as the seconds continued to tick by on the watch. She did have the right place didn't she? Natasha had sent her a message containing the address of a small place downtown. It looked like a fun place. Hopefully they would be able to—

"Mels!"

And there she was. Melanie felt her breath leave her. Dressed in tight black jeans and a flattering red scoop top, Natasha looked radiant. She had on a light jacket with what looked like a college crest on it. A small necklace with an arrow on it was a simple, but very nice choice. A hint of eye shadow sparkled above her light eyes. Her black wedges clicked on the pavement where the snow had been shoveled as she walked. She offered a smile. "Glad you could make it!" Natasha said, as she gave Melanie a small hug.

"Thanks for coming," Melanie said, her heart beating faster in her chest. She felt very plain in her sparkling orange top and jeans. "Shall we?" She motioned to the door. They walked in, and were instantly assaulted by the wave of sound. The beat of the music was so loud that it vibrated through Melanie and left her feeling almost breathless. Her entire ribcage seemed to rattle as they dropped their coats in the front closet.

"Let's get a few drinks!" Natasha yelled next to Melanie's ear. She nodded and followed the other woman through the crowd to the bar. When they reached the bar, Natasha was already handing Melanie a drink. "Cheers!" The agent said and threw back a few sips.

Melanie raised her glass and took a drink. Liquid fire raced down her throat and burned her mouth. Damn, was it good though. They both had no trouble putting away several more. It wasn't until Melanie's whole world was spinning that she realized that she might be a bit buzzed.

But it didn't matter. Whatever she had, it must've been made of pure courage, because Melanie seized Natasha's arm and dragged her to the dance floor. A hundred or so other people were already there, jumping and dancing to the electric rhythm. Melanie started moving, her hands not leaving Natasha's hips. The agent was smiling, moving her body in a way that drove Melanie crazy. Melanie swirled around and started grinding against Natasha, feeling her, embracing her, touching and dancing.

Time meant nothing.

The world was flashing and whirling in an alcohol fueled frenzy. Natasha's red hair flew around her as she spun, a haze of own red fire. Meanie grabbed the agent and brought their two bodies together as the music thrummed through the building, making the world shake and stir. Lava seemed to erupt inside Melanie as Natasha's body was moving against her own, their sweat mingling and their skin finding only each other.

"Come on," Natasha yelled suddenly, pulling Melanie away from the throbbing dance floor and across the room to the exit. Melanie's steps were a little messy, but Natasha, the beautiful Natasha, was leading her. She had nothing to worry about. Suddenly, her coat was around her shoulders and they were flagging down a cab.

The cab's interior was messy and dingy, but it was only for a short time. After quickly saying her address, Melanie wasted no time in grabbing Natasha by the shoulder and biting her neck. The agent sighed under her. Melanie felt her blood pounding, but she couldn't tell whose it was. Her hands began to explore the other woman, slipping under her red shirt and feeling her toned body. Natasha didn't waste any time in doing her own feeling around. She led her hands to Melanie's waist, tenderly caressing every curve and feature.

Suddenly, Melanie was struggling with her keys, trying to put them in the lock to her door. How did they get there? Oh... No, it didn't matter, because there were Natasha's hands again. This time, feeling up her ribs and onto her supple breasts.

"Oh god..." Melanie moaned, her body temperature rising.

And then they were on the bed. Finally.

Clothing was pointless. They ripped all of it off until there was only skin on skin, woman on woman, goddess upon goddess. There were no words exchanged, no coherent ones, anyway, for several minutes. Melanie felt her body explode as Natasha's tongue found every nook and cranny of her, licking, feeling, touching, oh god! Melanie's hips bucked as Natasha's tongue swirled over her.

Melanie heard herself scream Natasha's name as ecstasy overtook her. Wasting no time, she flipped the other woman onto her back. She took her sweet time with the process, feeling Natasha's nerves clench and twist as her fingers explored the terrain of her body. "God, Mel, right there!" Natasha gasped. "God please..." she moaned.

Melanie obliged and took her tongue on a journey through Natasha's most private area, licking and sucking and biting until Natasha came with vigor, releasing a cascade of emotion.

Both women collapsed onto each other, breath ragged and exhausted. Melanie had just gotten comfortable when she felt her consciousness leave her, wrapped in the arms of her beautiful agent.

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the window as Melanie woke the next morning. Her head was pounding and her stomach was reeling. God, why did she feel so—?

Oh shit.

She sat up, remembering having wild sex with Natasha. She shivered at the memory. Natasha was very practiced. Melanie glanced around the room and saw her clothes leading to the bed like a paper trail. The spot next to her on the queen sized bed was vacant and there was a note on the pillow. Melanie reached for it and her glasses and read:

" _Mels,_

 _I left a toasted bagel on the table for you as well as a pot of coffee brewing in the machine. I hope you slept well, I had a very nice night. See you on Monday. _

_-Nat."_

Melanie rolled over and covered her eyes. She could smell the coffee, but her stomach lurched at the thought of food. But the coffee did sound like a good plan. Wrapping the blanket around herself, Melanie trudged out to the kitchen, ignoring the protest of her pounding head. Her phone was on the counter and while she poured herself a cup of coffee, she read over some of the texts. Bruce wanted to know if she wanted to have another meditation session, Tony was griping about her not answering her phone and how he wanted to construct a specialized welding machine (because the ones on the market just aren't powerful enough), and an unregistered number tried to call her. The area code was from the town she grew up in. No doubt it was one of her cousins or someone like that calling to check up on her.

When Melanie left for college, she didn't go back to New Paltz, the tiny tourist trap where she was born. The small town lifestyle bored her, and she needed to get away from the prying eyes of her family. Her mother had died a mysterious house fire, and they believed it to be a gas pipe leak that had caught. After all, there was no evidence of arson. But that didn't stop the suspicion that arouse around her when she left for school and didn't come back home. Her relatives had been ready to welcome her into their homes, but she refused each and every one.

The coffee had grown slightly cold, so Melanie forced her hand to become almost boiling hot. In no time, the coffee was steaming again.

What bothered her the most though was why someone would call now? There had been no contact for several months. Did something happen to one of her relatives? She was hesitant to even call them back. There wasn't a guarantee that this was a cousin or an aunt or uncle. Maybe it was worth the shot. She redialed the number and waited.

"' _Ello?"_

Her mood improved drastically. "Uncle Seamus? Is that you?"

" _Mellie? Hey there sweetie pie, how are you?"_

She smiled and sat down on the kitchen chair. "Just fine, I'm recovering from a bit of a hangover."

" _Hitting the old bottle, eh Mellie? Just like your Uncle Seamus, you are. Whiskey is your best friend."_

Melanie chuckled. "Uh huh. Crazy old man."

" _Eh?! I ain't old!"_

Uncle Seamus was almost eighty and as Irish as they come. He was always Melanie's favorite uncle. No matter what time of year, he always had a jar of peppermint sticks on the kitchen counter. He always smelled like peppermint and pipe tobacco. "So what's the story, old timer?" Melanie asked, taking a sip of coffee.

" _Ah... Yes. Well, I'm not gonna mince words with ya, Mellie. I'm not feelin' so hot anymore."_

Melanie's smile dropped away. She tried to remain composed. "O-Oh?"

" _Your Aunt Eliza wants t' put me in a home."_

The words lingered for a moment. "Does she?" Melanie had to remember to keep her anger in check. Eliza was the third child. Seamus, Norah (Melanie's mother), and Eliza were siblings. Eliza was never the friendliest person to be around. "Why does she think you need to go to a home? Aunt Kelley is there with you, you'll be—"

" _You haven't been around, Mellie. Kelley died. 'Bout a year ago. Heart troubles. We tried to call, but you were traveling in Europe at the time, and so... well."_

Melanie hung her head in shame.

" _We just never told you because we thought that you would come and visit."_

"Uncle Seamus, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I haven't been around. I've just... School was difficult to get away from, and you know how I feel about going back to New Paltz... There aren't many fond memories there..."

" _I know, lass. My sister was never the lovin' type. Even when we were kids growin' up in Ireland." He sniffed loudly. "Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that your old timer is headed to a home."_

"It's no excuse as to why I haven't been there. I... I'll come visit, Uncle. Give me an address. I'll call off work and come up to see you," she waited as he thought.

" _That sounds like a fine idea, Mellie."_ She could almost hear his smile. _"Remember were the Harp and Fiddle pub is on Main Street? The home they're taking me to is a block over on Second and Fifth. Ya can't miss it."_

She wrote down the directions. "Alright, Uncle. I'll be up to see you as soon as I can. I'll be up tomorrow evening. Sound good?"

" _I'll even save you a peppermint stick."_ He said. Melanie felt tears welling in her eyes at that.

"Alright, Uncle Seamus, take it easy, I'll see you tomorrow."

" _Have a good day, love."_

* * *

Seamus O'Connor put the receiver back in the cradle. "There. She'll be here tomorrow. Are you happy?" The old Irishman glared at the two police officers in his living room. While most of the furniture had been clearing away and possessions had been put in boxes, the ragged chair that Seamus sat in still gave it a homey feel. The Irishman was balding, but a thick beard and mustache still grew on his chin. It was mostly grey, but some of his red hair still poked through here and there. His watery blue eyes stared down the officers.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. O'Connor. We'll confront her when she gets here," The tall officer said.

"Why do ya even need to? It was a gas leak... Mellie wouldn' hurt no one." Seamus said defiantly.

The short officer clutched a file closer to his side. "We've tried to ask her about her mother's death for quite some time. While she has cooperated, Miss Fraser has not been consistent with her stories. After reviewing all of the evidence and thoroughly investigating evidence and rereading your niece's statements, there is no other explanation."

"Your niece caused the fire that killed Norah Fraser," the tall officer concluded.

Seamus mumbled heatedly. "She's a sweet little girl who wouldn' hurt no one." He stayed firm by his statement.

"As you wish, Mr. O'Connor. But just know that she will be arrested on sight if she shows any sign of struggle," the tall officer tipped his hat. "Good afternoon, sir." And with that, they left.

Seamus sighed heavily and picked up his cup of black tea. He took a sip thoughtfully. "Ech..." He spat. "Cold as ice." He shook his hand out briefly, then held it under the mug. A small flame sprouted in his hand and he heated the liquid back up. "Much better."

* * *

 _There you are. Now, since that was all of the story that had been up before, we're going to be updating live. Live updates will have a less consistent update schedule. Please continue to read, it's greatly appreciated. I would also love some reviews. I still haven't gotten a single one. Your favorites and follows are very welcome as well, but feedback is appreciated._

 _I was checking out the view graph by country and I figured I would give a shoutout today to my five readers from Brazil! Thanks for your support!_

 _As always, keep reading ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon. Thanks!_


	4. 4 - Flaming

**4\. Flaming**

" _Seamus! Stop playing with that fire!"_

" _But it isn't gunna burn me, Mam!"_

" _What... What are you doing?"_

" _Isn't it pretty?"_

" _Get back, devil! Eliza, go get Father Derry! Now!"_

Seamus O'Connor awoke with a start. It had been a long time since he had dreamed about his childhood. He rubbed a wrinkled hand to his face and sat up. The nursing home room was pleasant enough, but it wasn't home. He looked at the clock sitting on the bedside table. The hands pointed it to be two-oh-seven. Seamus cursed under his breath. How was he going to get any sleep if he kept waking up every few hours?

He threw the covers back and pushed the button next to his bed to call for a nurse. What an odd thing to do. Call for a nurse at the push of a button. Within seconds, a short blond man came in. He had to be no more than twenty five. Oh, what was his name? Pete. That's right. "Is there something wrong, Mr. O'Connor?" Pete asked in a shaky voice. _Must be new,_ Seamus thought. _Just like me._

Seamus waved his hand. "Eh, nothin' much. Just wanted to go for a walk. I figured you people would want to know."

Pete looked flabbergasted for a moment. "Y-Yes... Of course. Just a short one. You need your rest." He began to go get the wheelchair in the corner of the room.

"Nah, I don't need that damn nonsense," Seamus growled, shooing away the wheelchair. "I'm goin' for a real walk." He stood and stretched slightly before looking at Pete. The young nurse looked quite helpless and unsure. The Irishman sighed as he put on his light jacket and flat cap. "Listen here, Pete, you can walk with me or you can stay here and shuffle your feet like a scared little kid on his first day of primary school." The nurse was flabbergasted, but he followed Seamus out into the halls and then out into the garden.

The sound of cars was faint, but the night sky made one forget that. Stars illuminated the night sky with a waning crescent high in the sky. The mountains in the distance held a sort of lofty beauty under the lights of the faraway stars and the closer moon. Under his slippered feet, the remains of old snow crunched as Seamus walked. He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the mountains.

"It reminds me of home," the old man noted.

"What does?"

"The mountains. I'm Irish. We have more than a few mountains." Seamus continued to stare, reminded of his childhood spent cooped up in the house, away from the village life. Several times, his mother had tried to have the local priest, Father Derry, exorcise him. His strange powers of fire summoning weren't very welcome in the household. Needless to say, he was not very shocked when his niece showed the same power. Seamus never had children, and he figured that the talent would be picked up again somewhere in the family. "Norah hardly ever spoke to me again after that," He said aloud before he realized that he did.

"N-Norah?" Pete stammered, more from the cold than anything.

"Go put a coat on, ya silly boy," Seamus said gruffly. The young nurse scampered away. _There is really no other word for it,_ Seamus thought. _The lad scampered_. When Pete returned, Seamus was once again staring at the mountains. The chilly night was peaceful. Crickets were composing their nightly melodies and the distant rumble of cars was just soft enough to compliment the chirping. Bats fluttered overhead, and Seamus could just hear them screeching to find food.

"Mr. O'Connor?" Pete asked quietly after a few minutes.

"Hmm?"

"You said something earlier about a woman named Norah."

"My younger sister."

Pete shuffled his feet when Seamus didn't elaborate further. "I think you said something about you and her not talking?"

Seamus sighed heavily. "My younger sister, Norah, had a daughter named Melanie that inherited a, ah… trait that only I had. As you can imagine, Norah was a bit angry with me for something that I had no control over. I don't know much of nothing about the whole genetics nonsense." He waved his hand. "Needless to say though, she up and didn't speak to me for seven years. Not until Mellie wanted to come visit her ol' uncle now and then."

"Maybe you should sit down with your sister and tell her how you feel." Pete suggested.

"She's not much the talkin' type no more."

"Why?"

"She's rotting in the fuckin' ground." Seamus spat on the ground. "And good riddance to her." The old man laughed at Pete's horrified expression. "Don't get your pants in a knot, Pete! When you get to be my age, you learn not to give a fuck about the people who gave you grief when you were young. You start thinking more 'bout who you'll miss and who you won't."

Pete was silent. Seamus hummed a tune to himself. Minutes passed before either said a word.

"Who will you miss?"

"Hmm?"

"Who will you miss when… Ahem… When—"

"—I die?" Seamus finished. Pete looked sheepish. "Relax, boy. It's not a topic I'm very concerned about." Seamus rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Who I'll miss… Well I suppose you, Petey. You're good to talk to." Pete smiled and blushed at the compliment, right up to the roots of his white blond hair. "And my niece, Mellie. She's my angel, always has been." Seamus chuckled to himself, as if sharing a private joke. "You might even say she's the fire in my heart."

"I beg your pardon? I didn't hear you," Pete said, stepping closer.

Seamus scratched his beard. "Nothin'…" he said, "just my ramblings." He thought for a moment longer. "I already miss my Kelley. But I'll see her again eventually." His heart sunk slightly. He couldn't really think of anyone else he would really truly miss. He looked again at the horizon. "You know something Petey? I've lived here for forty-three years. Never once climbed those mountains. They're all this town has goin' for it, you know. All the tourism that comes through here, none of that would be here without those huge piles of rock."

Pete cleared his throat. "What are you getting at?"

Seamus was quiet. What _was_ he trying to piece together? "Maybe…" he started, "maybe all I'm saying is that some things in life aren't complete without others. Like this town and the mountains. The town wasn't here before the mountains, it was built here for a reason. And that's what we are in comparison to the people and things that come through our lives. Just the town built into the rock. Then we can walk out our doors at all hours of the day and remark about how lovely they are."

"I'm afraid I still don't understand, sir."

The old man scoffed slightly. "I don't think I really do, myself."

The pair stood in silence yet again. A chilly breeze swept around their ankles. The younger man shivered. "Aren't you cold, Mr. O'Connor?"

"No, lad. I'm never cold."

"It's funny. My mother always told my brothers and sisters and I to put a coat on because—"

"—because she was cold lookin' at ya?" Seamus finished with a smile.

Pete laughed. "Yeah! I always thought that was so funny. But looking at you out here in your pajamas, slippers and jacket, I can kind of understand where she's coming from."

After a few seconds of light laughter, Seamus sighed wistfully. "I'd like to climb those mountains someday soon. Before I kick the bucket, I'd love to see the world from as high up as I can get around here." He turned to Pete. "You wanna come with, Petey?"

"And listen to an old man ramble to whole way up the mountain?" Pete asked with a smile.

"Heh?! I ain't old!"

"Alright, tell you what. We'll climb that mountain this weekend," Pete promised.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Seamus replied.

The birds had begun to chirp before the two men went back inside. By the time they stopped talking and Seamus laid down to sleep, sunlight was creeping through the window.

* * *

"You told me to do whatever was needed, sir."

"I didn't mean go have wild sex with her and get yourself injured in the process!" Fury yelled. He had his back to Natasha as a SHIELD medic put a salve on her bare back. If he was anything, Fury was courteous when bitching people out. On her back were a series of burn marks, all resembling hands if one looked close enough. There were also love bites, but Natasha was fond of those. If Melanie was good at anything, she knew how to please a woman.

"She was very persuasive," Natasha mumbled. To her dismay, Fury heard her.

"I see. I see. So a drunk fire mutant got a hold of one of my best agents, managed to get her guard down, and fucked her silly," Fury threw his arms up in exasperation. "Should I rent you a honeymoon suite next time?!"

Natasha knew he could feel her flinty gaze in the back of his bald head. "With all due respect, Director, you would do me a great favor by shutting the fuck up. I'm not an object and will not be treated as such."

The medic looked rather stunned, but continued her work.

Silence lapsed very awkwardly for several minutes.

"She is going to be wiped."

" _No."_

"Agent Romanov, you came back to SHIELD with second degree burns on your back that were caused by another member of the agency—"

"—and I've had worse happen on several different occasions!" Natasha retorted furiously. "Would you like them listed chronologically or alphabetically? I was intoxicated as well, I got caught up in the heat of the moment. I didn't take this as a particularly dangerous or imperative mission, so I treated the other night as a night off." She motioned to her back. "But this way, we have test results on her 'gift' so it didn't come away a total loss."

Fury put his hands on his hips and shook his head. Then he said, "You have one more chance with this. If Fraser so much as sneezes smoke with harmful intentions, she's gone." As he was leaving the medical bay, he stopped and thought for a moment. "I'm going to ask you again. Are you emotionally compromised by this mission?"

"No, sir."

He gave a grunt that sounded very much like, "my ass," and walked out of medical. Natasha put her head in her hands and rubbed her temples. Then she looked back at the medic who was putting bandages on her burns. "You believe me right?"

The medic simply gave her a knowing look.

"Your silence speaks volumes."

* * *

Melanie looked at her map again. The town had only changed a bit since she had last been there, but she was still having trouble finding the home that her uncle was now living in. She put the map down as she clutched the wheel of her car to turn the corner. And there was her Uncle Seamus outside the nursing home, chatting with a young man. He was gangly with white blond hair and a cheeky smile. Melanie waved excitedly and parallel parked outside the nursing home.

"'Ello, little pie," Uncle Seamus said, hugging her tightly when she got out of the car. She was instantly transported back to her childhood just by the smell of his jacket. When they broke apart, Melanie kissed his cheek.

"It's so good to see you Uncle Seamus!" She said excitedly. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, Mellie," Seamus replied with a crinkly smile. He motioned to both her and then to the nurse in turn. "Pete, this is Melanie Fraser, my niece. Mellie, this is Pete Hampton, the primary nurse that looks after me. He's my new best friend." Pete went bright red at that.

"He's exaggerating," Pete said, holding his hand out to shake, which Melanie took. "We started taking last night and now he won't leave me alone."

Melanie laughed at that. "I'm sure he hasn't!"

"I am standing right here, ya know," Seamus muttered. He gave them both a scathing, yet playful, look as they laughed. Then he cleared his throat. "So I was doing some thinking and figured we could grab a bite to eat?"

"Sounds good to me," Melanie smiled. They walked down the street to The Harp and Fiddle restaurant. After acquiring a comfortable table, they began chatting. Most of it concerned Melanie and her new job, which she couldn't go into drastic detail about, but was happy to discuss what she could. Then the topic turned to Pete, who told absurd stories from his days at Penn State Medical. One involved a very pair of chopsticks, some lighter fluid, a couple fireworks, and the Dean's office window.

Melanie snorted into her fish. "You're a child, Pete," she said with a smile.

"We were freshmen in med school, I don't know what you expected," he replied.

Seamus chuckled. "I don' know Mellie, he seems like he has a good head on his shoulders. I woulda done the same thing."

"There, you see, I'm not crazy!" Pete said.

They were quiet for a few minutes. "I don' know about this food," Seamus then said. "They say authentic Irish and Scottish on the door there, but I just don' see it." He frowned as he took a long sip of stout.

"Oh really?" Melanie inquired. "And what are they doing wrong?"

"There isn't enough lard t' kill a man!"

They erupted into laughter at that. Melanie wiped her eyes and glanced out the window. She stopped laughing and narrowed her eyes slightly. There were two men standing across the street, a tall man and a short man. They were both in suits, wearing gloves and sunglasses. Neither had on large coats, despite the cold weather. They looked as if they should be working at a funeral parlor. There was something about them, Melanie couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something very wrong about them. Around their feet, ice was slick and seemed to be creeping across the sidewalk and down the curb. Or was that just her imagination? It was very cold for November this year. And was it just her, or were they staring right at—

"Melanie?" Pete's voice drifted to her.

"Huh?"

"You were staring really intently out the window," he offered a smile. "Are you okay?"

She smiled in return. "Oh yeah, I'm fine," she replied. "It's just been a long time since I was in town, I'm trying to remember what it all looked like when I was little." She hoped that he didn't notice her nervousness. Melanie glanced back out the window a minute later when Pete and Uncle Seamus were having a conversation.

The men were gone.

Melanie found herself exhaling in relief, though she wasn't quite sure why. And then she saw it. Where the men had been standing were two sets of footprints, completely perfect prints with the ice around them. What in the world was going on?

"Melanie Fraser?"

She whipped her head around and felt her heart pick up. The men were at their table. They hadn't removed their sunglasses or gloves. Pete looked nervous, as they were standing right by him. Uncle Seamus looked very angry, staring holes into both of them. Melanie noticed slight wisps of smoke coming off her uncle's hands. She nudged his foot to grab his attention before she took his hand and squeezed. The temperature in his hand reduced and the smoke stopped.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" Melanie asked evenly, hoping that her voice wouldn't give away her fear.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Fraser. We're with the county police," the tall man said.

"We're going to ask that you come with us," the short man followed.

Melanie narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "And just why is that, officers? Did I double park?"

"No, miss. We have some questions concerning the death of your mother: Norah Fraser," the short man said, his voice monotonous.

"You will come with us," the tall man said.

"Do you have badges?"

The both showed their respective badges.

Melanie un-crossed her arms and stood. "I won't be going with you."

A nerve jumped in the short man's neck and he was flexing his fingers. His leather gloves squeaked as he did. "Are you resisiting arrest?" He asked, his voice patient.

"No, I'm not," she replied. "I may not have lived here in a few years, but even I know that the county police don't have blue and silver badges." She grabbed the steak knife off the table. "I've dealt with the police before when they questioned me about Mother's death. County police badges are red."

The tall man and the short man exchanged glances.

"Who are you?"

They didn't respond. The short man nodded at his associate. The tall man put his hand in his coat.

"Hey, what are you—?!"

Pete's words were cut short as he stood. The short man had moved quicker than Melanie thought possible and stabbed Pete. The implement was sticking out of his back, turning his pale scrubs bright red. Melanie and Seamus both exclaimed loudly and backed up, knocking their chairs over. The restaurant when quiet and then was filled with screams and general noises of panic. The short man flicked Pete away as if he were no more than a bug on a fly swatter. Melanie gasped audibly. It wasn't a knife or a machete that had been used.

The short man's forearm and hand were encased in shining ice. It formed a jagged point that was dripping blood, extending a foot and a half from the tips of his fingers. The hole it had left was as big around as an orange. Pete Hampton sputtered a few times, blood spitting from his mouth, and then was still.

Melanie looked back up at the men, anger filling her to the bursting point. "Who the hell are you?!" She yelled. The tall man brought his hand out of his coat. In his hand was a small, cylindrical object. Too late, Melanie realized it was a detonator. Before anyone could stop him, the tall man pressed the button and the entire restaurant exploded.

* * *

 _There you go, first new update. I hope you guys enjoyed this one, it was a bitch to write. It's been a scorcher where I live and I've been really lazy, so this took a little bit longer than I would've liked._

 _One. One review. C'mon guys, you can do better than that!_ _Please review, ladies, gents, and all others. I don't want to have to say "if I get a certain number of reviews then I'll update!" So please give me all and any feedback._

 _I hope you guys enjoyed! See you in a few days._


	5. 5 - Flaring

**5\. Flaring**

Melanie heard the roaring of fire and opened her eyes. Uncle Seamus was standing above where she lay on the ground, arms extended, creating a beautiful dome-like shield of fire around them. His arms shook with the effort of making the dome, and his eyes were glowing orange and red. Despite his age, his power rendered him quite terrifying.

"Uncle Seamus!" Melanie yelled over the din. He looked down at her, sweat beading on his forehead. "You can stop! I think we're safe!"

He relaxed heavily and the fire ceased abruptly. They were behind their heavy oak table, which had turned on its side and bounced off of the fire dome. The restaurant itself was in ruins. People lay dead and dying all around them. A charred arm sat a few feet from where Melanie lay. The sight of it made her vomit. Uncle Seamus knelt down and rubbed her back as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

"Where…" She wiped her mouth. "Where did they… Where did they go?"

Seamus looked over the edge of the table. "Right there," he said angrily. He ducked back down quickly, and five shards of ice went whizzing overhead, burying themselves in the opposite wall. "They have us pinned down, Mellie. What do we do?"

Melanie thought frantically, then reached into her jeans pocket. Thankfully, her phone was still intact. However, it was complaining about the high temperature of the area. "Shit," she hissed. "I need to make a call. I have some friends that can help us." She told her uncle.

"Well hurry," he said as he looked up over the table's edge. He ducked as a burning chair was thrown in their direction. "I don' think these guys are going to wait for us to come out much longer."

Melanie looked up over the table herself. The two men were standing about thirty feet away, looking directly at them. Their suits were not touched by the flames, but they were both soaking wet. Melanie could only guess that the short man had made a giant shell of ice to encase them in when the explosion happened, and then the ice melted.

The tall man locked eyes with Melanie. She gasped and got down just in time. Two beams of white hot light scorched the wall behind her. It was right where her head had been. The holes dripped, tendrils of the stuff were burning holes everywhere. It almost looked like plasma. Melanie mustered up her courage and looked again. The tall man still had his hands raised. They were smoking. _Beautiful,_ Melanie thought. _Now I'm dealing with two mutants. Well, I guess four if Uncle and I count._

Her phone beeped, and not five seconds later the table shook as ice shard buried into the hardwood. "Son of bitch," she muttered. She turned on her phone and quickly dialed the number. "Can you distract them?" Melanie asked Uncle Seamus. He nodded solemnly. Then he began rapid fire throwing balls of flames at the two men, ducking every once and a while to avoid their counter attacks.

" _Hello?"_

"Tony!" Melanie said in relief.

" _Hey Mels! What's up?"_

"Tony, please you have to help! There are two mutants attacking my uncle and I; they killed Pete! They want me for some reason, I don't know! We can't hold them off much longer, please help!"

" _I've locked on to your phone's signal, I'm on my way with back-up."_ The line went dead.

"Mellie!" Seamus yelled, ducking to avoid another last of plasma. "Are your friends coming?"

"Yes, we just need to stall for a few minutes!" She yelled back. At that moment, an icicle grazed Melanie's face, ripping the skin and causing a lot of bleeding. "Shit!" She yelled, clutching her bleeding cheek.

"Oh my god, are you—? Hnng…"

Melanie looked up. _"NO!"_ She screamed.

A thin shard of ice was sticking out of her uncle's stomach. He groped at his wound before he collapsed, his breathing labored. "Mellie…" He wheezed. Melanie took him in her arms and cradled him to her.

A crack of thunder suddenly shook the entire block. Lightning seared the sky and flashed in the destroyed restaurant. Melanie averted her eyes to see a man in armor and a billowing red cape standing between her and the mutants. His long blond hair was streaming behind him and in his right hand was a hammer. He took notice of the mutants and shot lightning from his hammer in their direction. The short man summoned a wall of ice to protect themselves. Then there was silence.

The armored man turned to look at Melanie. She raised a bloody hand. "P-Please… My uncle… Please…"

"Rest easy, Melanie," the man said in a deep voice. "Stark and I are here to assist you. I am Thor, son of Odin."

"Where's—?"

Just as she was about to ask, the ceiling fell in and in all of his glory, Tony stood there, clad in his Iron Man suit. He gave a two fingered salute then turned to the wall of ice. "So who thought it would be a bright idea to attack my friend?" He hollered, his voice sounding metallic and somewhat distorted.

"This is no concern of yours," the voice of the short man came from behind the wall. "Leave now and you shall not be harmed. Give us the girl, and you will sleep without fear for the rest of your life."

"Do not presume to think you can win!" Thor boomed, clutching his hammer tightly. Sparks flew from the end of it.

"How about this," Tony said. He pointed both palms at the wall of ice. A sound emitted from them similar to something charging "You guys come out from there and come with us, and you can hope that Fury will be nice to you."

"How about this?" The short man threw large chunks of ice at both Avengers. Thor shot most of them away, but one smacked into his side, knocking the wind out of him. Each bit of ice fired at Tony bounced off his suit or was shot into water and fragments.

"You have nothing, cowards!" Thor yelled. "Come out from behind your shield!"

"In my experience, good sirs," the short man said silkily, "it is better to know your limits and know when you are beaten." He shoved the wall of ice towards them.

"We will meet again, have no doubt," the tall man said. He and the short man ran out the back of the building. The tall man shot another bolt of plasma at one of the few beams holding the restaurant up and then they disappeared. Almost immediately, the building began to collapse.

"Tony!" Melanie shouted, holding Uncle Seamus closer.

"Thor, take him, we'll go up to the hospital—"

"No…" Seamus whispered. "To the mountains…" He raised a shaking, bloody finger and pointed to a large cleft in the rocks. "There…"

"Uncle Seamus you need a doctor we don't have time for—!"

Tony sighed metallically. "No time to argue, let's go!" He grabbed Melanie and Thor took Uncle Seamus and they flew into the sky towards the mountains. The building shook twice and then fell, dust and wood flying everywhere.

Were it any other time, Melanie would've taken a moment to appreciate the fact that she was flying. But now, all she cared about was her uncle. They reached the top of the mountain in almost no time.

"Uncle!" Melanie shouted, jumping from Tony's grasp and helping Thor lay him on the ground. "Uncle, we need to get you to a hospital, why are we here?"

"Shhh, Mellie…" Seamus said as he clutched the wound in abdomen. "I don' need nothing of the kind. I know I'm not gonng to be here to see the sunrise anyhow…"

Melanie thought her heart stopped. "No, Uncle! It'll be fine!" Her vision blurred, tears streaked down her face and sizzled on her hot cheeks. Or was that the blood from her wound? "We'll get you to a doctor!"

"You know something, Mellie…?"

"Wh-What is it?"

"I've never been up her before," he was looking past her, towards the edge of the cliff. Mile after mile of farmland and rolling hills lay before them. Trees that had yet to shed their leaves dotted the countryside, giving a spark of color here and there. "I told Pete we'd come up here together…" Tears filled his eyes and evaporated quickly after touching his skin as well. "I'll tell him how wonderful it is up here. I'll tell Kelley as well…"

"Uncle, no! Please!"

"Mellie… I think, I think I'm gettin' cold…"

"No, Uncle we don't get cold, remember? We can't!"

"You're such… such a good girl…"

"UNCLE!"

And as the light left his eyes, Seamus O'Connor laid quite still, still looking out at the world beyond the mountains.

Melanie screamed, howling with pain, rage, and sorrow. She screamed and screamed until her throat was sore and she could barely speak. Then a face came into her mind. A face lacking of emotion. The short man. The man who killed her uncle. She breathing was heavy, heat building in her chest. Then she threw back her head and opened her mouth, letting loose a plume of raging fire.

"I will _KILL_ him!" She shrieked, letting the wind carry her vow across the mountains.

* * *

 _Well, there you go. Please don't throw things at me._

 _Also yes I know this is short, I will address that._

 _So fun fact: I am actually very allergic to bees. My mother and I found this out last night when I was stung by a European hornet. Fun stuff. Lots of oatmeal baths and benadryl later, here is this chapter! It's a bit early, but I will be out of town this weekend and won't have a chance to write. Expect the next update on Tuesday or Wednesday._

 _Thanks for reading, see you guys soon._


	6. 5'5 - Authors note

_Due to a family emergency there won't be an update for a while._  
 _I'm sorry for the inconvenience._  
 _I'll be back when things get resolved._

 _-M_


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